First Class Shipping

First Class ShippingYou were tired. Tired of everything, but especially tired of the endless loop of identical days, working overtime just to support a bare minimum lifestyle. This job wasn't going anywhere; responsibilities piled up as your pay stayed the same. It was time for a change. You'd heard of the Market, an online service that matched wealthy buyers with willing pets and playthings, trading a few months or years of freedom for a more than livable fee. It was an appealing thought. Free living space, no bills, and a very sizable sum for you at the end. No worries beyond keeping your owner happy. The Market took care to match compatibility in that aspect, as well, carefully screening buyers and checking in periodically with pets to make sure they were well cared for. It sounded like an ideal way to leave this life behind. You decided to apply. One weekend, you stayed up until the early hours of the morning, answering question after question on the Market's website. Some were mundane, others made you blush. Could you cook? Favorite movie? Okay with being displayed to visitors? Special skills? Could you mix drinks? Like being tied up? Favorite color? Could you dance? The questions went on for what seemed like ages before you reached a screen thanking you for your time and effort, telling you to expect an email if you were eligible to continue. It was an anxious few days. You lost count of how many times you checked your inbox, nervously looking through it every time you had a moment to spare. Halfway through the week, you sat down to lunch and saw the notification. Heart pounding, you opened it to see your results. You had passed your screening, qualifying as a good candidate in the pet or toy categories! It then linked back to the site for more specific questions. You rushed through the rest of your day before hurrying home to continue your application.This time the questions were decidedly more sexual. Okay with sensory deprivation? Light body modifications? Public display? Speech restrictions? Chastity? Forced orgasm? You answered them all, excited by the possibilities. Then it was time for one last thing. A dozen pictures, very specific angles, all nude. You blushed, but stripped down and snapped the photos, attaching them to your application. After pressing "Send" you let out a sigh. Now it was just time to wait for your approval. Unlike the prescreening, you didn't have to wait very long. The email was waiting in your inbox when you woke the next morning. Accepted! You had been assigned an item number, and a bracelet with your information was in the mail.Once you put it on, your listing would go live. When you agreed to a buyer, it would lock to your wrist. You could take it off at any point before that, but your listing would be cancelled and you wouldn't be allowed to reapply. All you had to do now was set your contract duration and wait for your bracelet. Looking at your options, you saw that you had been valued pretty highly. Each year would be twice what you made at your job, plus a percentage bonus for longer contracts. The longest duration, five years, was an incredible amount, more than you'd had in your life. You hesitated. That was a long time to belong to someone else, but that kind of sum was life changing. You'd get to choose your owner anyway, right? You trembled a little as you clicked the five year term. The screen flashed, and the options disappeared. Your term was set. The next day of work passed in a haze. Soon you could be done with all of this. Nervous as you were, you couldn't help looking forward to giving up control and just being a toy for someone who would take care of you. When you went home that night, a package was there. You were barely through the door before you were eagerly tearing it open. A thin, smooth bracelet fell out. It was a perfect, unmarked solid ring, except for a small swelling with what looked like a single diamond. It was not at all what you'd expected. It was slim, stylish even, but it felt heavy in your hand as you considered the choice before you. After this, there was no going back. But why would you want to anyway? This life was slowly killing you, and you hated it. Grinning, you snapped the cuff closed on your wrist. It fit fairly loosely, sliding back and forth a little on your left wrist, but there was no way you could take it off without opening it again. To your surprise, the "diamond" began winking red a moment after you closed the ring. A few seconds later, it stayed red. Your phone chimed, signaling another email. This one was simple. "Item 119108 listed. Pet/Pleasure, domestic. Open sale." Your pulse raced. It was official, you were up for sale. Hopefully soon the first offers would come in. You wondered what kind of person would own you. It took a few days, but the offers slowly began rolling in. There were always more questions, whole conversations as both you and the prospective buyers tried to gauge your compatibility. The sale would decline unless you approved it beforehand, so most were determined to impress. One stood out, however. Witty, fun, a sharp sense of humor. You found yourself talking about lots of things that had nothing to do with your potential sale, spending hours trading stories and getting lost in conversation. They had quite the erotic imagination as well, promising you untold pleasures if you chose to belong to them. Many of the fantasies you'd always harbored could be real. Sleepless nights writhing in ecstasy, teased and toyed, paraded as a trophy for appreciative guests? But most of all, they promised you would be cared for, a valued companion as well as a treasured plaything. You caught yourself daydreaming about belonging to them, and you realized you'd be happy to be theirs even if you hadn't been for sale. Ignoring other offers, you continued to spend your nights chatting and dreaming, losing sleep in favor of spending time with them, before finally falling into bed in the wee hours of the morning, masturbating to fantasies of them until you collapsed. One such morning, after they had left for the night, you quietly approved the sale. No offer could beat theirs. You already belonged to them, as far as you were concerned. Still, you decided not to tell them what you'd done, waiting for them to make the move on their own. Days passed, then a week, still spending your nights talking and sharing your lives, your days full of fantasies and hopes. You barely noticed your work anymore, distracted by the weight of that bracelet and the shining red light, with all the potential it held. Then finally, it happened. You were in the middle of showering, rinsing the shampoo from your hair when you felt the click. For a second you thought you'd imagined it, until you brought your arms down to look. There it was, w vibrant, glittering emerald green. You laughed aloud, a wild, almost a****l sound, before dropping to your knees right there on the tile, staring at that beautiful green light. Disbelief washed over you and you tugged at the almost-invisible seam of the bracelet, trying to open it. It didn't budge, firmly locked around your wrist. Your eyes stung, and you sat there for a long time on the shower floor, your happy tears mingling with the hot water running down your face. Owned. You were finally owned, they wanted you enough to take you away and keep you. It took the shower running completely cold to bring you back to reality. Shutting it off, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel absentmindedly before hurrying to check your sale page. There, in bold print over your display photos, was SOLD, 5 YEARS, DELIVERY PENDING. There were two messages as well, one from your new owner, promising to care for you and keep you well through the coming years, and one from the Market, telling you what to expect in the next few days.Someone would be by to pick you up from your apartment, and after you left everything you owned would be put into storage for the next five years. You'd be taking nothing with you, the sale was for you and nothing else. You were to follow any instructions given until delivery. After excitedly replying to your new owner, thanking them for buying you, you set about preparing to leave. First, you called your boss and quit. You were going to be a thousand miles away in two days and gone for years, so who cared about notice? They'd seen the bracelet anyway. Once you had set your belongings in some semblance of order, you spent the next three days relaxing, ordering in pizza and enjoying your last moments of freedom before your new life. Soon enough, it was the morning of your delivery day. Waiting to be picked up seemed to drag on for hours, but in reality it was still early morning when your doorbell rang. When you answered it, there were two tall, rather imposing men waiting on the other side, dressed in all black uniforms. Stepping into your apartment, one of them tossed a soft bag into your arms. "Strip," he said. "No belongings. Use that instead." Blushing in embarrassment, you quickly undressed and opened the bag. Inside was an oversized shirt and pants, and soft foam slippers, all black. Underwear was conspicuously absent. You dressed as quickly as you had stripped, feeling the eyes on you as you pulled on the loose shirt and cinched the waistband of the baggy black pants."Don't get used to them," the man said. "Your sale is as-is." He turned to his companion at the door. "Joe, the cuffs." He took the thick black leather cuffs Joe offered, then said simply, "Hands." Obediently, you held out your wrists, and he wrapped the cuffs around them, pushing your bracelet out of the way before tightening the straps. Grabbing your shoulders, he turned you firmly around before locking the cuffs together behind your back. You felt his fingers in the hair at the back of your neck, then more soft, heavy leather wrapped around your throat, firm but not constricting. A lock clicked. His hand came up under your chin, attaching a heavy steel chain to one of the rings on your collar. "All right, this one's set, let's get it in the van. Ruby's probably getting lonely." He turned you back to face him, and started to walk out, leading you by the chain. You trailed meekly behind, trying to keep your balance despite the cuffs and your cheap, floppy slippers. As you followed, you took one last look at the apartment you had called home, then stepped through the door and followed the men down the stairs to the waiting van. Ushering you to the back, they opened the doors to reveal long bench seats on each side, with a curvy redheaded woman chained near the middle of the right bench. She was naked, blindfolded and gagged, her collar chained to an eyelet, her thighs held open by cuffs linked to the wall. Joe climbed into the back of the van, grabbing you under the arms and pulling you with him. As he did, the other man snagged the ankle of your pants, pulling them smoothly off. You yelped in surprise at being so suddenly exposed, but he just smiled. "As-is, sweetheart." Joe pulled you deeper into the van, dragging you up the aisle, and the other man closed the doors behind you. Seating you on the bench opposite the woman, he unlinked your cuffs just long enough to pull your shirt off over your head, tossing it down with your pants and slippers.Now just as naked as the woman opposite you, you flushed with shame and excitement. Removing the leash, Joe attached your collar to the wall like the woman's,, then cuffed your ankles and attached them to a bar beneath the bench. "Let's go," he said, sitting next to the woman. His partner started the van rolling, and he leaned back on the bench, throwing an arm around the nude, squirming woman, who giggled and moaned around the rubber ball. "Meet Ruby. This is the eighth time she's been bought. Same guy every time, and he pays extra to spoil her." He ran a hand over her thigh, slowly trailing his way up. "You're worth it though, aren't you, Ruby? Such a good girl." She giggled again, nuzzling into his shoulder despite the collar holding her to the wall, shifting herself to allow him better access. Joe grinned, shifting the arm around her shoulders lower, wrapping his hand around to squeeze her left breast. "That's right, you love this, don't you?" Ruby giggled again, a happy, bubbly sound despite the gag, or perhaps because of it. "Mmmmm-hmm," came her muffled reply. With his other hand, he used two fingers to gently spread her open. "Oh, I bet you do, just look at you. You want some attention down here?" She bucked her hips eagerly in response, straining at the chains on her thighs and moaning with need. He chuckled. "That's right. Good slut. Show the fresh meat how it's done." Ruby let out a delighted coo, throwing her hips roughly forward, humping shamelessly at his hand, rattling the chains and arching her back as she strained to reach him. You felt a peculiar twinge of envy. Joe had noticed. He met your eyes, smirking as he toyed with her. "You'll be just like her soon. You want it, don't you? You wouldn't be here if you didn't." You opened your mouth to reply, torn between trying to salvage your dignity and begging to be used like a cheap toy. He cut you off before you could make a sound. "No, don't answer, the way you're staring at her is enough. Don't worry, you'll get your turn." He hooked two fingers inside her, and she twisted and moaned, trying to drive them deeper. "Just look at her, such a wild plaything." He turned back to the shameless display unfolding on the bench. "So needy,? he chuckled before leaning in to bite at Ruby's ear, working his fingers faster and harder. She yelped in pain, but she strained at the chains in a vain attempt to catch his hand in her thighs. As you watched her desperate attempts to pleasure herself, you felt your own arousal begin to grow, inspired by her lustful writhing and your own helpless exposure. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air, and you shifted your thighs, eager to satisfy your own lust. Your own shackles rattled as you tried in vain to get your hands down to reach yourself, or to rub against the bench or somehow stimulate yourself with your thighs. Pride warred with your mounting arousal as you tried to hide just how much your new circumstances turned you on. You could almost get your hands down between your legs if you really tried, but that would mean spreading wide and giving Joe quite the display of your own, and that would certainly not go unnoticed. Still, the burning warmth that was racing through you now was undeniable. Watching the curvy redhead across from you squirm and moan with unabashed delight as she was used and teased filled you with not only lust, but jealousy. You decided you might as well embrace the new life you had chosen for yourself. What did it matter if you gave Joe an eyeful? Bracing the balls of your feet against the bar holding your ankle chains, you lifted yourself off the bench, spreading your legs wide, swaying your hips lasciviously and attempting to grind yourself against the bench. The friction was delicious, but far from enough to satisfy you. You couldn't help but moan at the press of the soft pleather beneath you, reveling in the sensations of your own tense muscles, the sound of Ruby's passion and the thrill of your own newfound debauchery. You found yourself smiling as you eagerly humped away. It wasn't long before your antics were noticed. Joe looked up, still four fingers deep in a blissed out Ruby, to see you spread out in a very indecent invitation as you struggled to get yourself off. He pulled his hand from Ruby's dripping slit and leaned across the aisle. "You want some of that, don't you, slut? Can't wait for a taste?" When you nodded breathlessly, he grinned."Taste this, then," he said, gripping your chin with one hand and pushing the still-dripping fingers of his other hand past your lips. You gagged at first, surprised by the sudden, rough intrusion, but you found you enjoyed the salty, oddly sweet taste of Ruby's juices, and soon you were eagerly licking and sucking his fingers clean as though they had been dipped in honey. "How does being a slave taste?" he asked. "Better get used to it, you'll be cleaning a lot of things with that dirty little tongue of yours." He withdrew his fingers slowly, watching the combination of your saliva and Ruby's juices form long, sloppy strings from your parted lips. "M-more, please-" you started, drawing a shaky breath, but Joe pinned your tongue swiftly under his thumb. You let out a squeak of pain, but he ignored it. "Learn your place. You'll get more when I decide to give it to you. If I decide to give it to you." "In fact..." he trailed off, looking back over his shoulder at Ruby, his thumb still pinning your tongue, "I think I may just have a solution for mouthy sluts." Pushing your head back, he released your tongue and leaned back towards Ruby. "Ruby's gonna let you borrow something." Reaching behind Ruby's neck, he unlocked the clasp of her ball gag, lifting the straps and pulling it free. Ruby took a hasty breath, thick strands of saliva stretching from her mouth to the gag as Joe pulled it away. Almost tenderly, he brushed her messy red hair from her eyes. ?You?ve been a good girl, you deserve a chance to sing for us.? Locking eyes with you, he continued, ?Your new friend here, however?? Smoothly, he straddled you on the bench, pinning you against the wall and grabbing a firm handful of your hair. ?Open up, pet.? When you hesitated, the hand in your hair relaxed, much to your surprise. His next words were quiet, almost gentle. "You have a lot to learn." Sharply, he tightened his grip, and when you opened your mouth to cry out, he shoved the slick red rubber ball between your lips. Swiftly, he pulled the straps tight and locked the buckle at the base of your neck. He ruffled your hair and smiled. "Much better," he said, looking you over with a lascivious eye. Cupping your chin, he lifted your head to look him in the eye. "You're going to be fun." He wrapped his arms low around your waist, pulling you as close as your chains would allow. You could feel the press of his cock through his jeans, firm and insistent against the bare flesh of your stomach. He started to kiss at your neck, slowly, gently, and his hands moved even further down to cup your ass, squeezing and kneading. You moaned, shivering with anticipation and need. Suddenly, he bit sharply at your neck, and as you squealed in surprise and pain, you felt him slip a finger in your ass. It was still somewhat slick from Ruby?s juices and your own saliva, but not enough to make it easy, and you reflexively tightened around the intruding finger. You bucked in an attempt to get away from it, but he just held tighter, and you felt him start to work it in and out, thrusting and massaging inside you. Soon another finger joined it, then a third, and he began to flex and spread them, stretching your novice hole wide.Try as you might, you couldn?t wriggle enough to get his fingers out of you, and gradually you relaxed, pressed tight against him. You let yourself go limp, resting your head on his shoulder and whimpering softly through the gag as he fingered you. Across the aisle, Ruby winked at you and licked her lips, bucking her hips suggestively.After another minute or two of using you, Joe pulled back, slipping his fingers out of you and wrapping his other hand around your throat. ?Good pet. You?ve learned your first lesson: there?s no point in fighting. You?re going to get played with either way, you might as well enjoy it.? Wiping his fingers across your bare thigh, he slid off of you, sitting on the bench next to you and hooking an arm low around your waist. ?Don?t worry, you?ll be a good little fucktoy in no time.? He leaned back, eyeing both your body and Ruby?s appreciatively. ?Speaking of which??He was across the aisle and on her in an instant. ?Playtime, slut. I know it?s your favorite.?She let out an excited, breathless giggle. ?Yes, Sir.? Pulling a key from his belt, he began to unlock her shackles from the wall, securing her hands behind her back and leaving a short chain leash attached to her collar. He sat back down next to you, tugging her down between his legs with the chain. She kept her balance flawlessly, and knelt there looking up at him with eager, expectant eyes.?Go on, show the new toy how it?s done.? She visibly quivered with excitement, and within seconds she had managed to unzip his jeans with her teeth. Deftly tugging his underwear aside, she kissed his tip almost lovingly as she gazed up at him, her dazzling green eyes shining with unrestrained lust. Slowly, she slid her plump lips down his shaft, massaging it gently, obviously savoring it if the expression on her face was any indication. Gradually she increased her efforts, bobbing her head as she worked his cock with experienced grace. Joe tangled his fingers into her vibrant curls, and pulled her head sharply into his crotch, his swollen balls slapping against her chin. She barely reacted, except to suck harder, her cheeks visibly hollowing as she eagerly serviced him. After a few seconds he pulled her back by her hair, and she gulped down a hasty breath, long strings of saliva trailing from her face to his throbbing cock. She smiled sweetly up at him, genuine joy on her face despite her degradation. No, because of it. ?Thank you, sir.?He smiled back down at her, yanking her roughly back onto his cock. ?Good girl.? She moaned, and it was hard to tell whether it was in reaction to the praise or to the cock buried in her throat. He worked her mercilessly up and down, grunting in pleasure as she sucked and licked him with wild abandon. You found yourself oddly jealous of her, watching her go wild, making the most lascivious noises as he used her mouth. You wondered what it tasted like, how it felt to have your throat spread wide and fucked that way.Joe groaned loudly, clearly on the edge, and buried both his hands in her hair, slamming his cock balls deep in her throat. He spasmed, and Ruby eagerly gulped away, swallowing every drop, licking at his twitching balls as she looked up at him with watery eyes. He released his grip on her hair, and she pulled almost reluctantly away, letting her lips linger on his tip. ?You?re a first class slut, Ruby,? he said, running a hand through her hair almost tenderly.?Thank you, Sir,? she giggled, beaming up at him from the floor, her face covered in her own drool. There was a shift in the van?s momentum, and you felt it gradually slow before rolling to a stop. ?We?re here, slaves,? Joe said. ?Time for packaging.?End of Part 1